


BUTTERFLIES AND HURRICANES ★

by elfroot



Series: King & Lionheart [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Camping, Cheesy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desk Sex, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Online Dating, Pictures, Sexting, Skype, Slow Burn, Texting, Veterinary Medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfroot/pseuds/elfroot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen's forgotten what it feels like to let people in. He's lived a mundane life by choice, ever since he left the Armed Forces, a daily routine his friends vow to change. One of them <i>does</i>, and a well-crafted online profile later, Cullen accidentally stumbles upon Alistair, a breath of fresh air he's never suspected could spin his carefully shielded world upside down—let alone his heart. <b>Will contain NSFW pieces of art</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> blame [starshipsorceress](http://starshipsorceress.tumblr.com/) for this one, and all my thanks to my dear baumkuchen [froschkuss](http://froschkuss.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful pieces of art she drew for this ♥
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

It starts with a buzz. Two. _Ten_. The same kind that snaps him out of his slumber every morning, when he's only had a few hours of sleep, but _softer_ , muffled vibrations as he nods off on the sofa, and he feels them hushed against his thigh. He doesn't wish to wake. He doesn't wish to _move_ , a groan rumbling low in his chest, and in the midst of muddled awareness, he _seeks_ , blind and sluggish gestures of his arm as calloused fingers slips underneath him. _His phone_. He can feel its shape, half-buried under his arse, garbed in frazzled briefs he should have thrown away years ago, for what little it covers. He wears them for good measure—for _comfort_ , or so he tells himself, but the truth could shame the devil—and he _pulls_ , limp fingers as he cracks an eye open, a wriggle of his nose doubled with a drowsy glare.

 _Thirty-six emails_.

His lip twitches, quick flutters of his lashes to blink his daze away. He never sleeps soundly. He most definitely never sleeps for _long_ , haunted by scars he still feels, when moonlight sifts through pulled curtains, and _this_ successfully goads him awake. _Thirty-six emails._ That's a switch, for someone who doesn't keep in touch with much of anyone. Exchanged pleasantries with his siblings are sporadic at _best_ , and despite his solitary inclinations, he likes _tangible_ , people he can see, _hear_ , more than curt abbreviations on a screen that often causes his eyes to sting, and he squints now, loose curls dangling over his brows as he swipes his thumb across a number of applications he seldom uses.

What could possibly be so urgent as to try and catch his attention thirty-six times?

 _WICKED GRACE—PLAY YOUR HAND AT LOVE_.

He's not particularly well-versed in terms of technology, but _this_ is just as subtle as a blown-up Chantry. The double-entendre, if clever in its own right, is altogether ridiculous, at least for anyone who wouldn't normally partake in such distractions. Anyone like him, really, who doesn't even have time to buy new _underwear_ , and he scrolls down, scratching the gruff of his jaw in absentminded confusion.

_leatherftsh sent you a message._

Leather... fetish? He shifts uneasy on the sofa, already distancing his face from the screen.

_desiredemon liked your profile._

No _._

_urslave sent you a message._

Your... _what_?

_breach-me sent you a message._

A prank, clearly.

_cheeselover01 liked your profile._

_..._ well _._

 _bignhorny sent you a pictu_ —

"Sweet Maker!" he wheezes, dropping the phone onto his lap as he fists his hair and bolts up, only to scurry and fumble and _curse_ , catching the device just before it hits the floor.

 _There's a dick in his phone_. Bigger than anything he's ever seen, and he moves a shaky finger across the screen, holding it like it's caught on fire and forcing his eyes nearly shut, _because he doesn't want to see it again_.

He should have known. It _is_ a prank. It reeks of Hawke, neighbor and intermittent friend, when he doesn't behave like a complete fool—which isn't very often—and Cullen scoffs, glancing at the door and half-considering walking across the hallway to barge into his apartment and _murder him_. He was an officer, once. A _commander_. In the Armed Forces. The memories he keeps of that time aren't particularly fond, but if he's learned a thing or two, he should be able to successfully hide a body...

...or, at the very least, successfully erase all traces of this outrageously disgraceful profile Hawke created for him.

He wishes he knew why he did.

...or perhaps he doesn't, all things considered.

 _hearmeroar_. The name alone causes him to cringe, and the descriptions he skims over renew his urge to smack some sense back into Hawke. It's rarely ever worked before—he doubts it'd work now—but he's edging on pushing it too far and Cullen told him time and time again that his help wasn't required. _He doesn't date_. He doesn't wish to, nor does he need anyone in his life.

Because he doesn't know how to let them in.

He forgets what it feels like, yet sometimes, he remembers, glimpses of camaraderie when he lets his guard down, but close means pain, and he can't risk inflicting that kind of torment upon anyone again.

Ever.

His lungs feel fuller when his thumb hover over the confirmation button that'll scrape his account from existence, and just as he's about to press, the screen lightens again.

 _cheeselover01 sent you a message_.

 It's a questionable username to be sure, but not nearly as nefarious as most of the others were, and nowhere near as brazen. It sounds... candid, almost, and the thumbnail paired with the message he has yet to open seems rather... well.

 _Attractive_.

"Come on, Rutherford," he admonishes himself, not without a frown as he sighs stifled between gritted teeth, and he feels foolish, half-naked in the middle of his living room and _struggling_ , focus sharpened on a face he wishes he could distinguish better.

A peek wouldn't hold him to anything. No obligation to respond, and his curiosity, however ill-timed, would be sated, and perhaps he could try to sleep again.

His thumb swipes upward, almost of its own volition, and his eye—the one he keeps open, half-guilty—brightens with the screen.

 

 

 

> Well-endowed _and_ too proper for your own good, huh? _Where's the lie_. Wow, this is a terrible introduction, I'm sorry. I'm not even sure I _should_ be introducing myself, but... Your profile is ridiculously funny, whereas mine is... well, mostly ridiculous, actually, but when I started reading yours, I quickly found that I couldn't stop, and now I'm here and feeling like maaaaybe you haven't written all of it yourself. It's in your face. If it _IS_ your face, that is, and... well. _I hope it is_. I'm a good judge of character though. Or I like to think I am anyhow. There's that stern look about you... not that there's anything wrong with _stern_ , mind you, but... y'knooow. You look. _Well_. I wouldn't say proper. Maaaybe... kind? Just the right amount, and _definitely_ not the type to brag about all the lampposts you've licked in winter.
> 
> I don't know if I'm wrong. I don't even know if this will ever reach you, but... I wouldn't mind the proper or... the well-endowed for that matter. Nor would I complain if you really enjoyed long walks on the beach _and_ growling at unholy amounts of paperwork. I do that too. At any rate, I should probably stop before I make a fool of myself, if it's not already too late. I just wanted to let you know, when I caught a glimpse of you... it brightened my day, and I didn't think anything would manage that feat today. But you did. Was that too cheesy? It probably was. _Of course it was_. I do like cheese, though... I mean, the edible kind. Or... any kind, actually. But I meant it, and I'd like to hear from you, if you're... if you're real. _Maker_ , I hope you are. In the meantime... may he watch over you.
> 
> —A.

He blinks, twice, four times, staring blank and puzzled as warmth spreads to his cheeks. It doesn't stay there. It reaches lower, where his pulse jumped, where he feels it most, against his ribcage, and he coughs when he senses a smile threatening to twist his mouth, a quick reminder to get a blasted _grip_. This shouldn't be endearing. This shouldn't be _anything_ , especially not where his interest is concerned, but it's _caught_ , and he reads again, and again, wondering just who could manage to come off as both a complete twit _and_ a keen, good-hearted man. A mushy one, granted, but it's more than that. It sounds... honest, borderline naive, and Cullen lets his lips curl upward, because as pathetic as it is, this is more excitement than he's gotten in a very long time, and he can't bring himself to deny the way it makes him feel.

Nervous. _Daft_. Brash. And somewhere deeper where his heart beats harder, burdens have lifted, and he's young again.

He's browsing his page before he even realizes what he's doing, his mind lagging behind as if suffering from second-hand embarrassment, but the rest of him embraces what he sees, a chuckle he can't muffle as goofy pictures grace his dormant sight. The man _is_ attractive, more than Cullen expected, more than what should be _allowed_ , and he wonders, abstractly, what might have prompted a man like _him_ to loiter on a site like _that_. It's not just his face, either. It's _everything_ , the way he presents himself so openly, self-derision and genuine passion for every subject he brushes over, and his descriptions are _lengthy_. If the guy seems a jester, he doesn't lack in intelligence, _sharp_ , knowledge laced with humor, and Cullen stands captivated in shredded underwear, an onslaught of snorts as he scans what _A_ has to offer.

There's a whole set of him posing with dogs, and another featuring fancy arrangements of cheeses—he definitely didn't lie about _that—_ and it's so refreshing Cullen forgets the mundane of his life, the mundane he willingly _chose_ , because ordinary is safe, focus undivided, no surprises, but _this_... This gives him _pause_ , and when his scrutiny leads him farther, his breath _catches_ , a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and he needs to _sit down_.

He does, slow motions as a soft sigh flows past his lips, his gaze riveted on the view that causes his heart to _leap_. Its beat creeps up his spine, faster, whisking along every nerve in his body, and he _stares_ , gut churned in the kind of warmth he hasn't felt since... well. Since _ever_ , really.

The picture clashes with the general drollery portrayed on his page, a monochrome depiction of what Cullen's already discerned, lying faint but clear underneath his playful demeanor.  It's the kind of picture that's taken without one's consent _or_ knowledge, _free_ , and Cullen's finger lingers over his smile, chest tighter as he gazes at the man caught mid-laugh, long lashes upon freckled cheeks and broad, bare shoulders in stilled movement.

 _Maker's breath_.

Heat pools in his loins, in his head, and his mind finally catches up, acknowledging just how beautiful the man is, nothing to hide, and it goes far beyond his physical appearance. _I'd like to hear from you, if you're... if you're real_ , he wrote, and Cullen's free hand glides up to his nape, a timid curve slanting his mouth. He knows it's ridiculous, but...

...he's fairly certain he'd like to hear more from him as well.

Before he's had time to even _blink_ , however, someone knocks at the door and his head snaps up, eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"What?"

His voice echoes grouchy in his ears and he _winces_ , waiting for an answer that doesn't come. There's another thump instead, which inevitably makes him groan, and he glances once more at the screen lighting his face, another squeeze in his chest as he reluctantly leaves his phone behind and gets up.

He's forgotten all about his rather exposed _dispositions_ , but the way Hawke grins when he opens the door, staring _down_ , instantly reminds him.

"Looks like I was right about _something_ ," he smirks, and Cullen _flushes_ , an indignant frown as he shuts the door in his face.

"You shouldn't be here," he grouses, hearing the door cracking back open behind him, and he makes a beeline for his bedroom, shuffling in the dark until he finds an adequate pair of sweats to put on.

"You need new underwear, Rutherford," Hawke says from the living room, turning on lamps in his unwelcome wake.

"And _you_ need to leave. _Now_."

"Aw, not even a smidgen of gratitude? Really? You wound me."

"I'm about to."

"Hey, it was quite a bit of work to make you sound like an interesting prospect."

"Hawke."

"What? Someone's got to help you get lai—"

"Maker's _breath_ ," Cullen storms out of his room, pajama bottoms hanging low around sculpted hips, and he tries to ignore the heat covering his cheeks, his _neck_ , the grin Hawke sports widening by the second. "Is that why you're here? To _berate_ me. If you came looking for gratitude, you knocked at the wrong door. I might have been touched by your concerns had you learned to keep your nose out of my private affairs."

"Look at you," Hawke gestures in his general direction, blatantly ignoring his response, and his appreciative stare turns scandalized once he peers down his choice of dress. "And look at _that_. Something doesn't add up, and _you_ aren't the odd one out. When's the last time you bought new clothes?"

"I don't have time to—"

"Everyone has time to go shopping. You just never take it. _But Hawke, why should I? Nobody's going to see me clad in anything less than a suit, you know how boring I am_. Wrong! That sad reality of yours changed the moment I created your profile. How'd you like it? Varric helped me."

"Varric hel—oh, for Andraste's _sake_ , I can't—"

"Tomorrow. Me. You. _Shopping Mall_. I'm picking you up at 10."

" _Hawke!_ "

"Sleep tight, Rutherford, your new life starts in 12 hours," he bows out with a wink, and Cullen scoffs as the door shuts behind Hawke, a slow, disgruntled shake of his head.

But he isn't as angry as he should be. If anything, he isn't angry _at all_ , not anymore, bothered still by Hawke's obvious disregard for boundaries, and yet it pales in comparison to the lightness in his heart, something he hasn't felt in _years_ , and it flutters sweet and it spreads all over, and Cullen finds a smile again.

He should say something back. He's not sure _what_ , and he's not sure _how_ , but the urge to respond drives him mad and he needs to _know_ , the man behind the pictures, behind the humor and behind the endearingly awkward message, he needs to know that he's _real_ and he slinks back down on the couch, a harsh, nervous exhale through his nose.

 _Sleep tight, Rutherford, your new life starts in 12 hours_.

Or perhaps it could start _now_.

 

 

 

> ~~Dear A~~
> 
> ~~Hello~~
> 
> ~~I'm~~
> 
> ~~Greetings~~
> 
> ~~Andraste's flaming knickers!!!~~ ~~~~
> 
> I fear you've stumbled upon a complete farce my neighbor thought appropriate to devise. I apologize. I never gave him permission to write this nonsense on my behalf, and I'm afraid to ask just how much you read. I can assure you that most of what he described was largely more flamboyant than I really am, although some of it was true enough, I suppose. A few... passages, perhaps. I do enjoy walking, for instance, and I probably do growl at that, when it comes to paperwork. I'm a teacher. It tends to accumulate rather quickly, but I doubt you came here for tedious tales of my daily routine. I... enjoyed reading your profile. Perhaps it was the cheese. I don't intend on keeping mine active, but should you wish to talk more, you're welcome to reach me at this number: xxx-xxx-xxxx
> 
> My name's Cullen.

He doesn't read it over—he presses _send_ right away, before he changes his mind, before he _loses_ it, blinking as the message materializes just below A's, and the breath he releases leaves his lungs in a rush.

" _What have I done_ ," he mouths, eyes widened, and his pulse jumps again, _hard_ , making it slightly difficult to swallow.

 _He gave him his number_. His number that a grand total of _8 people_ know, and he scampers up, raking a hand through his hair as he whines, a sidelong glance fixed on the phone left on the couch.

This was a bad idea. He doesn't do impulsive. Spur of the moment kind of thing? Not his. He's careful. Disciplined. Efficient.

 _And yet_.

He was too forward. Too monotone. Too much and not enough and oh, _Maker_ , what is he going to _think_ , of him, of _this_ and ugh, _get a damn grip, Rutherford_ , he shouldn't even _care_ , but he does, half-tempted to run to his bed and bury his face under a pillow, half of a mind to pick up his phone and throw it out the window.

He does neither, rubbing his neck and pacing for what feels like an eternity, and five minutes pass, _ten_ , until he groans and sits back down, quietly willing his phone to buzz again.

Perhaps it'd be best if he never responded. He could delete his profile in peace and never think of this again, of _him_ , but it's not likely anything he'll forget soon, if _ever_ , and he squirms on the couch, reluctantly acknowledging the sensation of sheer disappointment crowding his chest. _This is ridiculous_. He's nearly 30 now, for Andraste's sake, and somewhere in the back of his mind, _he reels_ , realizing that Hawke might not have been so wrong, after all.

Maker preserve him, but he _does_ need help.

He sighs, long, _raw_ , the bridge of his nose pinched between trembling fingers, and as he attempts sleep, lying pathetic on the couch, he can't help but peek, _every twenty minutes_ , even though he doesn't hear or feel anything, just in case his phone might have conveniently failed to notify him of a response.

He'll cancel his account. First thing comes morning, once he's had no more than a couple hours of rest, and somehow, tonight, he knows it won't be his demons keeping him awake, his phone heavier than it should on his stomach, and he covers his grief with the breadth of his forearm over his eyes.

 _You have a message_.

He stills. It _buzzed_ , a vibration on his abdomen, just above his navel, and he cranes his neck and he _breathes_ , staring down his torso as his chest lurches wild.

 _You have a message_.

The second notification causes him to jerk, _abrupt_ , and he nearly drops his phone again, elbows on his thighs and fingers pressed hesitant to the screen, his face brighter between the broad of his shoulders.

He _clicks_ , and he stops breathing.

 

 

 

> hey! this is much more delayed than I wanted it to be, and I wish I had an excuse like oh, I'm sorry, I was busy eating cheese, but nooo, the truth is... I've been staring at your message for the past few hours, and maybe a few of your pictures as well, and I think I might have squealed. you're real. and not completely repelled by my... well. by me, apparently. thank the maker for small mercies.
> 
> I hope I'm not waking you. I just wanted to let you know, before I lose my wits, that I did receive your message... obviously, I don't know why I said that, but... yes! I would very much like to talk to you more. I'm Alistair, and... please tell me you don't sparkle, though even if you do, I'm willing to overlook that, if you don't mind the occasional drooling on my part. it's the dogs, you see. I love them, though I might as well have been raised by them, according to... well, most people who know me, actually. I'm babbling already, I'm sorry. I'll uh... be here. when you are. good night.

_Good night_ , and Cullen smiles, wide and bright—for the first time in a decade, he's glad he's awake, _absurdly so_ , but more than that, he's oddly relieved, perhaps even a little _hopeful_ , because when he goes back to delete his account, Alistair's is already gone.

 

* * *

 

 **Next Chapter's Preview** :

[19:13] **alistair** : i'm not bothering you, am i? i tend to do that, though most people usually aren't as gracious as you've been

[19:15] **cullen** : No, on the contrary. Forgive me. If I seem unsure, it's only because it's been a... long time, since I've had regular contact with people.

[19:16] **alistair** : do you teach from your home, then? are you a _hermit_

[19:17] **cullen** : It wouldn't be far-fetched to assume, I suppose. My sister enjoys calling me a "workaholic" and insists on reminding me that I should "get out more". To be honest, you've... made me want to try.

[19:19] **alistair** :  i'm glad and honored, and you can tell your sister that i'll endeavor to make her proud. you weren't always a teacher though, were you? you briefly brushed over the subject the other day, and i... didn't want to pry, i mean, i still _don't_ , i'm just... well. i can think of a few adjectives, sure, but just to keep a dash of dignity i think i'll go with... _curious_

[19:23] **cullen** : I don't mind your questions, Alistair. I was Commander in the Armed Forces for several years.  I had to leave, ultimately. The Order didn't reflect my beliefs any longer, and as a teacher, I'm hoping to show the new generation of potential recruits the true purposes of Templars. I have a friend among their ranks. She works hard and efficiently, and perhaps our combined efforts will be enough to make a difference.

[19:26] **alistair** :  i'm assuming you were present during the Uprising. i don't blame you for retiring. i know many, or... _knew_ many, who didn't have that chance, as i'm sure you do. i almost served, y'know. it just wasn't... _me_. i can only imagine what you went through, and i understand your... hesitation, for lack of a better word. i can do slow. i can do anything, really, if it means getting to know you... better

[19:28] **cullen** : Thank you. You seem to be on the right path to make my sister proud. I'll be sure to let her know.

[19:30] **alistair** : ohhh, here comes the pressure! alright. time to recharge my mighty powers. enjoy your night, Cullen

[19:34] **cullen** :  And yours, Alistair.

 ---

[09:48] **cullen** :  Good morning. I simply wanted to wish you a good day.

[09:50] **alistair** : cullen! it's already much better :) don't overwork yourself

[09:51] **cullen** :  It's already too late, I'm afraid.

[09:52] **alistair** : as a doctor, i strongly suggest a night of rest and a few hours of your time spent with... damn, what's his face. that fool named alistair. in fact, let me write you a prescription

[09:54] **cullen** :  You're a veterinarian, Alistair.

[09:55] **alistair** :  and you're a mammal. text you at 20:00?

[09:56] **cullen** :  I'll be here.

[09:56] **alistair** :  ahh, if only my patients were as cooperative as you are. see you then, cullen :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a text interlude, before the second chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all SO MUCH for the positive response, the comments and the kudos, the reblogs @ tumblr. you make my life ♥

[19:13] **alistair:** i'm not bothering you, am i? i tend to do that, though most people usually aren't as gracious as you've been

[19:15] **cullen:** No, on the contrary. Forgive me. If I seem unsure, it's only because it's been a... long time, since I've had regular contact with people.

[19:16] **alistair:** do you teach from your home, then? are you a  _hermit_

[19:17] **cullen:** It wouldn't be far-fetched to assume, I suppose. My sister enjoys calling me a "workaholic" and insists on reminding me that I should "get out more". To be honest, you've... made me want to try.

[19:19] **alistair:**   i'm glad and honored, and you can tell your sister that i'll endeavor to make her proud. you weren't always a teacher though, were you? you briefly brushed over the subject the other day, and i... didn't want to pry, i mean, i still  _don't_ , i'm just... well. i can think of a few adjectives, sure, but just to keep a dash of dignity i think i'll go with...  _curious_

[19:23] **cullen:** I don't mind your questions, Alistair. I was Knight-Captain in the Armed Forces for several years.  I had to leave, ultimately. The Order didn't reflect my beliefs any longer, and as a teacher, I'm hoping to show the new generation of potential recruits the true purposes of Templars. I have a friend among their ranks. She works hard and efficiently, and perhaps our combined efforts will be enough to make a difference.

[19:26] **alistair:**   i'm assuming you were present during the Uprising. i don't blame you for retiring. i know many, or...  _knew_  many, who didn't have that chance, as i'm sure you do. i almost served, y'know. it just wasn't...  _me_. i can only imagine what you went through, and i understand your... hesitation, for lack of a better word. i can do slow. i can do anything, really, if it means getting to know you... better

[19:28] **cullen:** Thank you. You seem to be on the right path to make my sister proud. I'll be sure to let her know.

[19:30] **alistair:** ohhh, here comes the pressure! alright. time to recharge my mighty powers. enjoy your night, Cullen

[19:34] **cullen:**   And yours, Alistair.

 

\---

 

[09:48] **cullen:**   Good morning. I simply wanted to wish you a good day.

[09:50] **alistair:** cullen! it's already much better :) don't overwork yourself

[09:51] **cullen:**   It's already too late, I'm afraid.

[09:52] **alistair:** as a doctor, i strongly suggest a night of rest and a few hours of your time spent with... damn, what's his face. that fool named alistair. in fact, let me write you a prescription

[09:54] **cullen:**   You're a veterinarian, Alistair.

[09:55] **alistair:**   and you're a mammal. text you at 20:00?

[09:56] **cullen:**   I'll be here.

[09:56] **alistair:**   ahh, if only my patients were as cooperative as you are. see you then, cullen :)

 

\---

[21:22] **alistair:** afjhlewjf wajsd :) adfj

[21:22] **alistair:** that was my dog, i'm sorry

[21:23] **alistair:** and not, y'know.  _me_ , trying to find an excuse to poke you without coming off as overeager. i'd never do that

[21:24] **cullen:** Perhaps you should teach your dog to type "Hello". It's usually enough to catch my attention.

[21:27] **alistair:** have you seen her paws? they're  _huge_ , like... something really huge. i'm lucky she didn't send anything more embarrassing, like... 'i know we chatted for hours a couple days ago but i already miss talking with you'. wow. imagine how awkward it would have been, i'd never be able to sleep after that

[21:35] **cullen:** Which one of your dogs would be more likely to send me such a message?

[21:37] **alistair:** probably Brie. she's a clever one. beats me at diamondback even, when i'm really tired. but since she often seems to forget the difference between a shoe and a piece of meat, i guess that'd still make me the most credible... suspect.

[21:39] **cullen:** Would you consider letting me borrow her? In case I failed to gather up my nerve and missed an opportunity to tell what's on my mind.

[21:42] **alistair:** you? i doubt you need any help when it comes to putting your thoughts into words, let alone my dog's. don't you remember the first day we talked?  _really_  talked. two weeks ago, and you spent hours typing very eloquent descriptions of war strategies, chess moves and oh, did i mention all those passages from historical books that  _you know by heart_.

[21:44] **cullen:** That's... different. Maker, have I really expounded so much? I'm sorry. I doubt you were expecting a lecture so soon after we met.

[21:46] **alistair:** oh no, no no no, please don't apologize. it blew me away, honestly. i'm used to people assuming that i'm just... well, stupid. and sure, maybe i felt a little inadequate, but you never treated me as if i couldn't understand. you listened, too. when i babbled about my job, and my dogs, and my... family. i'm tempted to ask why, if anything.

[21:48] **cullen:** I would gladly tell you, if Brie was willing to lend me a paw.

[21:49] **alistair:** haha, alright then. what do you think she'd say?

[21:55] **cullen:** That I've come to look forward to our conversations. You're an intelligent man, Alistair, and I know it hasn't been long, but you've already shown me that there might be more to... everything, than I was willing to admit. I haven't considered going out of my comfort zone in a long time, and I find myself enjoying crossing lines I wouldn't have dared to acknowledge before. It's... refreshing.

[21:59] **alistair:** are you... saying that i'm one of those?  _lines_.

[22:02] **cullen:** No. You're... what I hope to find on the other side.

[22:04] **alistair:** oh, i.  _oh_. crossing lines together then, huh? haha i... think i like the sound of that. remind me to thank Brie for this, minus the blush it caused, i could get used to this sort of delivery

[22:05] **cullen:** I fear I've exhausted what little bravery I had for the night.

[22:06] **alistair:** oh, right. it's rather late, isn't it. i... hope i didn't wake you. it's a little late to ask, but for what it's worth, i'm sorry if i did.

[22:07] **cullen:** I'm not. Good night, Alistair.

[22:07] **alistair:** good night, Cullen

 

\---

 

[06:48] **alistair:** good morning :) :)

[06:56] **cullen:** Good morning. You're rarely ever up so early, especially on a Saturday. Is everything alright?

[06:59] **alistair:** i'm just about to leave for work, actually. extra shift, wasn't supposed to go in, but i guess i'm indispensable. y'know what they say...

[07:00] **cullen:** ...Who?

[07:01] **alistair:**   _they_. y'know. anyone who has the pleasuuure to know me, really. once they stumble into my life, they can never go back

[07:01] **cullen:** ...What?

[07:02] **alistair:** once Theirin, they can never get out

[07:02] **cullen:** Alistair...

[07:03] **alistair:** i'm running late

[07:03] **alistair:** have a great day Cullen

[07:04] **alistair:** THEIRIN THEIROUT

[07:05] **cullen:**   _Maker's breath_

 

\---

 

[15:12] **cullen:** Would Brie happen to be nearby?

[15:36] **alistair:** hey, cullen! i'm sorry, it's been a crazy couple of days, i should be home soon. did you have a message for her?

[15:38] **cullen:** I... miss her.

[15:39] **alistair:** i... miss her too, actually. a great deal

[15:40] **alistair:** my shift ends in a couple hours. wait for me?

[15:41] **cullen:** Always.

 

\---

 

[02:21] **alistair:** he called you WHAT? what does it even  _mean_

[02:23] **cullen:** I'm not certain. His name was Jim, if I'm not mistaken. He might have found me through my profile.

[02:24] **alistair:** you mean...  _the_  profile? from that site?

[02:25] **cullen:** Yes, but it couldn't have been active for more than a few hours, a day at most. He was quick, and persistent. He must have been following me ever since.

[02:26] **alistair:** for a month and a half?  _creepy_. very creepy. nothing good ever comes out of those sites.

[02:28] **cullen:** I disagree.

[02:30] **alistair:** [sends a picture of himself, with a warm and silly smile on his face—next to it, brie's drooling.]

[02:30] **alistair:** are you sure?

[02:31] **cullen:** I am. Are  _you_?

[02:33] **alistair:** weeeell... you did make a very fine point. they aren't entirely bad, i suppose. like swooping.  _that's_  always bad.

[02:35] **cullen:** Did swooping involve another one of your unfortunate encounters?

[02:36] **alistair:** no, that's just my neighbor. dreadful woman. there really only were three encounters though, and... yes, i guess all of them were unfortunate

[02:38] **cullen:** I can't imagine what it must be like to live under constant scrutiny, or fear thereof. Had I been in your shoes, I might have considered resorting to that medium as well.

[02:40] **alistair:** are you kidding. had you been in my shoes,  _you_  would already be king of ferelden. i'm just the bastard prince... and it's not like i was actively  _looking_ , you know

[02:41] **alistair:** i mean sure, i looked. i wouldn't have... found you otherwise.  _but_. i've never really met anyone. no one worth mentioning anyhow, and it wouldn't be any different if i weren't forced to keep a low profile

[02:44] **cullen:** Is that why you ridded of it? Because you felt it was... futile.

[02:46] **alistair:** no... i ridded of it because... well. because i met you, and it actually only started making sense  _then_. i must sound like a fool. i didn't even know you and... i dunno. i just. i felt something. maybe i'm just making a Jim out of myself... am i?

[02:50] **cullen:** No, I... felt the same.

[02:51] **alistair:** you... did? because i know now that i definitely wasn't wrong. about... you. i think you've already exceeded all my expectations, if anything. not that i... i mean, not that we... uh... y'knooow

[03:02] **alistair:** i'm sorry, this is probably my cue to wander off and swallow my foot

[03:03] **cullen:** No,  _I'm_  sorry. I was... ugh, Maker's breath. I've been meaning to ask you this for days and I just can't seem to get it right.

[03:05] **alistair:** if you were wondering whether i did dance the remigold in a pretty dress, the answer's in my wardrobe

[03:07] **cullen:** I would like to meet you.

[03:10] **alistair:** i... wow. alright. i was not expecting that. am i dreaming this

[03:11] **cullen:** I know we've vaguely talked about this before. You live in Denerim, and I in Honnleith. The distance is considerable, but I thought we could... try video calls, perhaps, until we can afford enough time off duties to see each other.

[03:15] **alistair:** wow. you...  _wow_. i'm sorry. it seems i've completely lost my train of thoughts... ah. there it is

[03:15] **alistair:** how do i say this... YES

[03:16] **alistair:** this friday, maybe? i'd do it now, but there's a huge embarrassing grin on my face and i'd most likely wind up sounding like a bumbling idiot

[03:17] **cullen:** Friday night?

[03:17] **alistair:** yes. i'll be here. physically, at least

[03:18] **cullen:** I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime, I should probably attempt to sleep before the sun rises

[03:19] **alistair:** right, good idea. i'll do the same. when my chest stops pounding

[03:19] **cullen:** Good night, Alistair.

[03:20] **alistair:** no doubt mine will be good now. sweet dreams, Cullen

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cullen and alistair finally get a chance to really _see_ each other, through a screen, after a month of texted conversations.

Cullen reveals himself in measured doses. Out of prudence or modesty, Alistair can't decide, but he likes to think it's a mix of both. There's not a single pretentious bone in his body. He's simple, however complex his mind proves to be at times, and it doesn't take Alistair very long to understand how he works. _Too much_ , if taken literally, and it's something he enjoys teasing him about, when Cullen texts him hours later than planned. He never resents him. He knows what it's like, to try and walk a straight line when everything else around threatens to crumble, to try and _forget_ , but never completely, because a part of the pain he carries keeps him alert. It keeps him _alive_ , in ways, and if Cullen's past is nothing like his own, they've connected somewhere in the middle, and Alistair understands why he chose a mundane life.

He doesn't know everything, of course, but he knows enough not to _pry_ , and when it feels like he's slipping out of his reach, _he lets him_. Cullen warned him before, almost as soon as they began talking. He's no social butterfly, and that's fine with him, because the time he _does_ take to text him back, the hours he spends pressing buttons on a screen, _for him_ , it's what he genuinely _wants_ , and it's all Alistair could ask for.

He likes him. It's an odd thing to say, when he's not even _met_ him, yet it speaks volumes of just how much he affects him, of the possibilities it presages. He's a passionate man. Reserved but _there_ , all of him, when they talk, and he makes him _laugh_ , a different kind of humor that lingers even when his screen fades to black—there's purpose behind every word he shares, whereas Alistair speaks his mind even when he shouldn't, and it's remarkable, how well they mesh together, and however exasperated Cullen seems to be at times, he keeps coming back.

Just as Alistair keeps wanting more.

There _will_ be more. _Tonight_ , and Alistair's already squirming in front of the computer screen, waiting for Cullen to pop online. He's not sure whether it's actually a date, but it's definitely _something_ , and the thought of hearing him, watching him for the first time, it makes him feel more nervous than he's ever been. He's not particularly shy, but this, _this_ feels important, _Cullen_ , and he has such a terrible tendency to put his whole foot in his mouth—sometimes _both_ —he really doesn't want to mess this up.

He left the clinic early, forcing his colleague to grumpily take over, but seeing as he barely ever takes vacation, he doesn't feel guilty at all.  He half-expects Cullen to come home late, as he usually does, and if the extra time should serve as an opportunity to calm down, it only manages to unnerve him. _He's anxious_. He spent _at least_ half an hour in front of his own reflection, switching clothes a dozen times before settling for a long-sleeved shirt, _blue_ , and by the time he was done with his hair, the moon had already risen.

And now... now he _waits_ , Brie and Feta snoring at his feet as he rolls up his sleeves, the younger Mabari, Cheddar, most likely busy destroying furniture in another room. He doesn't care—furniture is replaceable, his dogs are _not_ —and Brie looks up with her big eyes when he sighs a trifle too loud, nuzzling her face against the hand he offers.

"Don't give me that look," he scratches her behind the ear, and she waggles her tail, waking her older brother. "You know I still love you, right? He's just a friend."

_Woof!_

"What? _Me_ , a... liar? _Ouch_. Your opinion of me isn't very high, my lady."

_Woof! Woof!_

"Alright, alright. You saw _right_ through me. I do still love you, though. And you, too... please don't drool on my shirt. I need to look as human as possible. Do you think I've managed that?"

_Arooo... woof!_

"You hurt my feelings, you know. I bet Morrigan taught you th—"

_Ping!_

cullenrutherford is online.

Oh...

_Ping!_

cullenrutherford sent you a video request.

...oh whoa. _Whoa_. This is it. _This is it_ , and Alistair nearly knocks his cup of tea off the desk, his heart fluttering up somewhere that isn't his _chest_ , but more like his throat, his temples, and he chokes on his breath.

It's surprisingly quick on Cullen's part, but as he coughs and grips the mouse to accept his request, it seems so _clear_ , the reason why he didn't waste a second, because _he_ feels it too, dread coiling in his stomach, the risk of losing his courage, and if Alistair doesn't click _now_ , he fears he might just wind up fleeing to the next room.

He swallows hard, his finger _pushes_...

...and he wants to die.

Or perhaps he's already dead. This could easily be mistaken for the Maker's bosom—a much gruffier one, that is—and the sight of Cullen in front of him, on the other side of the screen, steals his breath away. The vision is altogether _unholy_ , and Alistair thinks he hears him say _hi_ , but his mind can't reach his tongue, busy as it is staggering over thought after thought. He _stares_ , and Cullen stares _back_ , the both of them blinking too fast, _away_ , back again, and he feels a sigh touching his lips, _shaky_ , overcome with a mighty need to clutch his heart.

Maker's breath but he's _beautiful_.

He knew, of course, but this is as close as he's ever gotten to see him in the flesh, and the sight is... well. _Quite the sight_. He wears a crisp, black button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and collar open, a glimpse of skin, a hint of what lies underneath—more muscles, taut, _hard_ —and as Alistair gawks flustered at the stubble dusting his jaw, his _neck_ , firm and strong lines along his arms, he wonders stupidly if he's taken a habit of lifting _textbooks_.

"A-Alistair?"

HIS. _VOICE_.

"Yes," Alistair croaks, and he has to shake his head to dissipate the spell he's caught under, noting just in time the glint of panic in Cullen's eyes, his cue to regain his senses— _now_. "I-I'm sorry, I was, uh, momentarily distracted, I... you... do I seem a little nervous? Because I _am_."

"You look f... I-I mean, you _seem_ fine, you... you're _fine_."

It's subtle, but there's a twitch in his jaw, _tighter_ , and Alistair can almost sense the tumult in his mind, an aborted grimace that leaves a rather adorable _knot_ between his brows. Alistair smiles, slow, _subdued_ , and Cullen's gaze swivels down.

"Forgive me... Am I too early?"

"Oh, no, _no_ , not at all, I just. I feel like _I_ should apologize, I'm not usually so inept, I swear... actually, nevermind. _I always am_. You should rejoice, though. _While you still can_. Because if there's anything I usually am _not_ , it's speechless. Congratulations are in order, I think."

_He gesticulates too much_ , but Cullen _laughs_ , low, soft _,_ barely audible, and it's there in his eyes when he looks up again, in the mild curve of his lips and even in the way he leans forward, _closer_ , and Alistair holds his breath.

"Believe me, I never intended to leave you, ah... speechless. I... enjoy the sound of your voice. I imagined I would, of course, but... hm. I was... hoping to hear more."

Has he... really, _truly_ just said that? With a half-smile, the faintest colors upon his cheeks, and Alistair tries not to _scream_ , a chuckle instead, and his own face feels much warmer.

"You know I was just thinking the same," he manages, and Cullen's lips curl wider in turn, gazes melted in the sort of bashfulness Alistair hasn't felt in what feels like forever.

And perhaps it _has_ been forever.

"I've  never done this before," Cullen says, his tone a trifle apologetic, and Alistair not-so-subtly notes the play of muscles across his forearm, rising up until his palm closes around his nape.

"Really? You've never talked to _anyone_?" Alistair gives a small grin, clinging to his composure, which feels very unstable and very fleeting, much like the air in his lungs—his hands _shake_ , and he makes a point to keep them off-screen. "I can't imagine what it must be like to communicate with your students. Do you use Sign Language, then? _Do you have a secret code_. If that's the case, I'm willing to learn."

He could jest all night. It's what he does best, making people laugh, even at his own expense—which is often the case—and if he's frequently used humor as a self-defense mechanism, he learned that it could charm as well. It's what he aims for, for the most part, but watching Cullen now, laughing again, so warm and so frank, _so beautiful_ , it charms _him_ , and he knows he's falling.

He leans in, pulse wild, and Cullen's chuckle spills low and raspy, lashes fluttering low.

"You're..."

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees?"

"I thought you'd be... different, perhaps. I-I mean, I don't..."

_Oh_.

"Are you..." Alistair's throat tightens, a blow to his chest, and he swallows on a dry breath. "You're not... disappointed, are you?"

"No... Maker, _no_ ," Cullen shakes his head, and there's such vehemence in his eyes, in his frown, as though it's the craziest thing he's ever heard, Alistair sighs a silent sigh, heavy and relieved, and he feels his lungs again. "I thought you might not be as I'd come to know you. I was afraid of that, but you're..."

"Predictable?"

"...you're _you_."

"Oh, that's... a relief, I think. Wait. Is it?"

Cullen's hand uncurls from his nape and glides down with the tip of his chin, whispered words laced with a coy smile.

"You're... everything I hoped you truly were."

_Everything,_ and _you_ has never sounded so appealing, so full of everything Alistair wants to be, for him, things Cullen seems to like, to _want_ , and his toes curl in his shoes and his hands stop shaking, fingers tightening on a wish to _touch_ what he can't.

_He needs to say something_. Instead he blinks, and he knows he must look foolish, tongue-tied and gaping in something that feels like rapture—his mind trips over his heart, or perhaps it's the other way around, and he snorts like an idiot and he _does_ speak, but it's nothing he even wishes to say.

"And _you're_ a little redder than I thought you'd be."

There's some sort of a grin somewhere on his face, but it's nothing more than a mask—his joke, if it can even be called such, falls flat, and Cullen frowns, much redder indeed, and Alistair panics. _What a stupid thing to say_. Heat and cold wash over him and he blanches, searching Cullen's gaze, _in vain_ , because it escapes him now—his humor's failed, and all that's left is him, _bare_ , and he needs to tell him that his heart mirrors his own.

"Cullen," he grits his teeth on a momentary scowl, cursing himself, and once he catches Cullen's gaze, he notes the uncertainty there, laced in flecks of gold, and his chest sinks and he shakes his head, and his arm moves of its own volition.

He presses his hand to the screen, a graze of fingertips, and he sighs unsteady.

"I'm sorry," he all but whispers, and Cullen's eyes waver hesitant between his face and his hand. "That's nowhere near what I even meant to say. I don't know why I said anything at all. I like your blush, if anything... but that's beside the point. The truth is... I can't stop thinking about you. Ever. I'm looking at you now and I can scarcely believe that you're real, that you're the man behind all the conversations we had. It's crazy! _You_ make me feel... crazy. I'm trying to link everything together and I feel like I'll end up choking on my own heart. I'm pretty good at sidetracking people, even myself. I'm sure you've noticed, but the thing is, I—"

"You're on the other side of the line," Cullen cuts him off, gentle, and he's smiling again and Alistair _breathes_ , cheeks pink and a tender glint boring into his eyes. "And _I_ am by your side."

His hand flinches against the screen, a broken sigh on his lips—Cullen's fingers reach his own, cautious, a tentative touch through the glassy barrier, and he fears he might hear the beat of his heart.

"Cullen..."

"Alistair...?"

"You're... oh, Maker, you're—"

_Woof! Woof!_

He shouldn't even be surprised. _Of course_ Brie chooses that particular moment to remind him of her existence, _like the worst possible cliché_ , and she jumps into his lap and he catches her with both arms, hearing Cullen's laugh as he shoots her a disapproving stare.

She barks again, _proud_ , and he feels Feta's tail waggling against his leg.

"Oh, don't you dare encourage her."

"Is that Brie?" Cullen asks, his palm gone from the screen and curled around his neck, and it doesn't go unnoticed—Alistair smiles to himself, wondering just how many times he's done the same before, whenever they texted.

"The one and only," he can't help but chuckle, a wriggle of his nose as Brie licks his cheek. "Feta's feigning sleep at my feet, but he's rooting for her. _I can tell_. She probably sensed my desperate attempts at conveying how I feel."

"Yours and mine both."

"Maybe I should let her try her... magic."

"I don't think she'll leave you alone until you do. What do you think she'd say?"

_She would apologize_ , or she should, anyway, and yet he doesn't need her help for this. He grabs his phone, his left arm wrapped around Brie, and with his tongue half-stuck out of his mouth, he searches, with one hand, for the only response that makes sense.

_A heart_. Red and plump and throbbing, much like his own now, pulsing all over and warmer, from his chest to his face. The cheesiest emote, to be sure, and yet it means everything.

Cullen smiles the moment he receives the text, and Alistair doesn't know how much more he can handle, _this man_ ,  gruff and refined, strong and tender, an easy flush upon his cheeks, and his phone beeps a second later.

_Two hearts_. It makes him laugh, and his eyes glisten with the curve of his mouth.

"Trying to outdo me now, are you."

"Once Theirin, they can never get out," Cullen's grin matches his own, lazy, _bashful_ , the same measure of yearning. "Isn't that what you said?"

"Among many other things," his smile widens, and he beams, wishing he could touch him, _anything_ , Cullen's gaze so ridiculously sweet he squirms on his chair, causing Brie to bark again. "Can I... Can I come see you?"

It's frank, blurted without thought, and if Cullen _pauses_ at the request, he doesn't seem reluctant.

"Now?"

"I wish," Alistair hums through his breath, blinking coy. "I would, y'know. If I had someone to babysit my dogs. But no, I thought... next weekend, maybe, I—"

"Yes."

"...really?"

"It's about time I gave my students a much deserved break. No homework for them, no paperwork for me."

"I... well. I heard there was a faire. In Honnleith. Something like a... mini attraction park? Would you like to... go there, maybe. You've probably already gone a million times—"

"Not once, actually. I'll... gladly go with you."

Alistair's smile stretches, and Cullen's chin tips down, a timid curve slanting his mouth. It makes him look younger, not in terms of age but something different, like a burden's lifted from his shoulders, and Alistair clears his throat, tight with bliss, the same joy in Cullen's sigh.

"It's settled then. Next weekend. You. Me. _Cotton candy_."

"Perhaps you'll get another chance to dance the Remigold."

"Maker, let's hope not... but for you, _maybe_."

He doesn't know how much more he can smile, but he can't stop, and neither can Cullen, it seems, his gaze so gentle, when he looks up, seeing _him_ , like something he wants, like someone who matters, and it's Alistair's turn to look away, knowing just how foolish he must look, smiling the way he does, and he doesn't care.

"I'm pretty sure my brain is fried now," he apologizes anyway, and Brie jumps off his lap, barking towards the television. "What about a... movie? I don't want to end this, but I don't think I can hold an intelligent conversation right now or... _ever_ , really."

"You underestimate yourself," Cullen shakes his head, a mild, reprimanding frown creasing his brows, but his lips are turned upward. "What did you have in mind?"

He smirks, a fond glint in his eyes, and they smile the same smile.

"Something _cheesy_."

They're ready within minutes, movie rented together, but he won't remember any of it come morning. He'll remember Cullen, on the other side of the screen, lighted by the same series of images, and he'll remember his eyes, deep and locked into his own, stolen glances and bashful smiles—when he goes to sleep, hours later, _3 am_ , he feels lighter than he ever has, and he thinks he's finally found where he belongs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a text interlude, before the next chapter, which includes a lot of teasing from wynne, zevran and dorian, and cassandra who obviously reads too much romance fiction. AND MAKER DO I WISH I COULD POST EMOTES

[16:31] **alistair:** am i too old for this, wynne?

[16:33] **wynne:** And why exactly are you asking me this, Alistair?

[16:35] **alistair:** what? oh. no, i mean, i just feel, y'know... like i shouldn't, ah...

[16:36] **wynne:** You thought I might be an expert at feeling old and could share my wisdom?

[16:38] **alistair:** gah, no! i mean, yes! not the old part, you just. you're a lot wiser than me that's for sure. i didn't mean to imply that you'd know what it's like to be... old

[16:40] **wynne:** I _am_ old.

[16:42] **alistair:** ...you're just trying to trick me now, aren't you. the kind of ruse that's bound to make me lose no matter what i say and might involve a bruise or two for things i haven't _thought_ to say

[16:43] **wynne:** Now, now, Alistair. I'm merely stating facts. My younger days were already far behind when you were but a tiny babe. I'll always keep fond memories of that time.

[16:44] **alistair:** of... me? as a tiny babe

[16:46] **wynne:** You were a lively child. I can't count the number of times I had to run after you to change your diapers, and you would cry so loudly, almost to the point of fainting.

[16:47] **alistair:** that's... not the kind of mental image that immediately comes to mind when i think of you

[16:48] **wynne:** You would need to be as old as I am to remember, but thankfully I've kept many photos of your childhood. Would you like to borrow a few albums? I'm sure the young gentleman you plan on meeting would be delighted to see what a lovely boy you were.

[16:50] **alistair:** ...i don't know what you're trying to do wynne, but i can sense your evil from here

[16:51] **wynne:** Such a wonderful boy. Do you remember when you ran stark naked in the backyard and stuck your... no, of course you can't. You were much too young.

[16:52] **alistair:** you're totally threatening me. with potential blackmail. i'm never going to mention anything about your age ever again if you promise to seal those albums away

[16:53] **wynne:** You're never too old for anything, dear.

 

***

 

[20:21] **hawke:** how long has it been?

[20:23] **cullen:** What?

[20:24] **hawke:** action!

[20:25] **cullen:** I sparred just a few days ago, actually. Why do you ask?

[20:26] **hawke:** [various fruity emotes to depict something naughty]

[20:32] **hawke:** did your face just catch on fire?

[20:35] **cullen:** Good night, Hawke.

 

***

 

[11:38] **cassandra:** Have you told him?

[11:40] **cullen:** He knows why I quit the Order.

[11:41] **cassandra:** Can he handle everything it implies? Neither of us will ever be the same, Cullen, not after the Uprising. You need someone who will support you as a whole, and not in spite of your struggles. Someone who will kiss you without pause, someone who will look at you and in whose eyes you'll only see a reflection of the best part of you.

[11:42] **cullen** **:** Cassandra...

[11:43] **cassandra:** Don't lecture me! I know what you'll say. I read too much, but passion isn't limited to fiction, Cullen. True love and devotion exist and you deserve as much as you have to offer.

[11:45] **cullen:** I appreciate your guidance and encouragements, Cassandra, as always. But you don't need to worry. He's a kind man.

[11:47] **cassandra:** Whether he deserves you remains to be seen. I will not be satisfied until he sweeps you off your feet and steals your breath away.

[11:50] **cullen:** You'll be happy to know that we are halfway there, in that case.

[11:52] **cassandra:** Is he... handsome?

[11:52] **cullen:** Very much so.

[11:52] **cassandra:** Does he make you laugh?

[11:52] **cullen:** All the time.

[11:53] **cassandra:** Is he intelligent?

[11:53] **cullen:** Of course. He's...

[11:54] **cassandra:** Yes???

[11:55] **cullen:** He's everything.

[11:56] **cassandra:** [excited emote, heart eyes]

[11:56] **cassandra:** I expect a full report once you return from your date.

[11:58] **cullen:** Duly noted.

 

***

 

[14:18] **wynne:** May I have a word, Alistair?

[14:18] **alistair:** of course! what do you need

[14:19] **wynne:** Well, I thought that _you_ might need something, my dear.

[14:20] **alistair:** did you notice a hole in my shirt when i came by earlier this morning? are you offering your mending services

[14:20] **wynne:** Oh, no. I wanted to offer you sage advice.

[14:21] **alistair:** on... what

[14:21] **wynne:** Alistair, there's no need to sound so suspicious.

[14:22] **alistair:** with you? are you kidding. that whole frail lady act? i'm sooo not fooled. what kind of advice did you want to give me?

[14:22] **wynne:** Well, you know what happens when a boy and a girl love each other very much, don't you?

[14:23] **alistair:** ...i don't like where this is going. you're not trying to blackmail me again are you

[14:24] **wynne:** Babies are not delivered by the Good Fade Spirits, Alistair, as I taught you when you were still a boy. I should have told you the truth.

[14:25] **alistair:** i... maker's breath, i know where babies come from, why are you even... why are we talking about this?

[14:27] **wynne:** Because there are still certain things to consider when a boy and another boy love each other very much. You should protect yourself, dear.

[14:28] **alistair:** this isn't real

[14:28] **wynne:** You should be especially gentle as well, when it comes to particular areas on a man's body, which should be pampered with extreme care. I know a few brands of oil I could suggest you.

[14:29] **alistair:** ANDRASTE'S FLAMING SWORD I AM SO NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION WITH YOU

[14:30] **wynne:** Are you at work, dear?

[14:31] **alistair:** y E S

[14:31] **wynne:** I'm sorry, have I embarrassed you?

[14:32] **alistair:** you did that on purpose! you're a wicked o— you're wicked! and i hate you

[14:33] **wynne:** Do stop by after your shift, Alistair. There was indeed a hole in your shirt.

 

***

 

[09:11] **zevran:** My dear Alistair, Wynne has informed me that you have recently found comfort in the arms of a strong man.

[09:11] **alistair:** sweet maker. has she told everyone i know? i didn't find comfort anywhere. i haven't even met him!

[09:13] **zevran:** Oh, how unfortunate. I assume it's something you'll be remedying soon, no?

[09:14] **alistair:** we're meeting this saturday, and no, i'm not bringing you along

[09:15] **zevran:** Me, no, but I thought I could let you borrow some oil from my own personal collection

[09:17] **alistair:** not this again! what's with you and... you know what. i'll just pretend i didn't just hear you suggest i use some of your... used oil that you... ugh, maker's breath!

[09:18] **zevran:** If you're not interested in oil, perhaps a blindfold or a whip could strike your fancy?

[09:19] **alistair:** NOT LISTENING. LA LA LA LA LA

 

***

 

[19:28] **dorian:** You've been awfully quiet, lately. Moreso than your usual... laconism, shall I say, if such a thing is possible.

[19:37] **cullen:** I've been rather busy. With... work.

[19:39] **dorian:** Oh? With work or... with _work_.

[19:42] **cullen:** ...Is there a difference?

[19:45] **dorian:** Ahh, Cullen. Naive has always looked so good on you. Such a shame. But the simple fact that you bothered to ask tells me that you already know the answer to that unnecessary question and that you're half willing to let the nug out of the bag.

[19:47] **cullen:** Did you wish to continue our game of chess? I could stop by tomorrow night.

[19:48] **dorian:** Now, now, what sort of diversion tactic is this? It was poorly executed, if I must say, and should I have any desire to finish our game, which I already know you're on the verge of losing, I'll be sure to let you know. You're blushing now, aren't you?

[19:49] **dorian:** Don't answer that. I can picture you perfectly, rubbing at your neck, wondering how you'll try and deflect my questions again. In vain, might I add.

[19:49] **dorian:** I promise to relent if you give me a name.

[19:50] **cullen:** Dorian.

[19:51] **dorian:** Yes?

[19:52] **cullen:** You asked for a name. I gave you one.

[19:53] **dorian:** Are you sassing me? What is it you say... Ah! Maker's breath. Such an odd expletive, but quite fitting when it comes to you chaste Chantry types.

[19:54] **cullen:** Maker's balls is an alternative that would suit your interests, I'm sure.

[19:55] **dorian:** Oh, yes. My interests. But what of yours?

[19:56] **cullen:** What of... mine?

[19:58] **dorian:** A name, Cullen. Is it a she or a he? Neither, perhaps? Both?

[20:05] **cullen:** His name is Alistair.

[20:06] **dorian:** Ah, Alistair. A strong name, smooth on the tongue. Worthy of Kings. Have you made its acquaintance?

[20:07] **cullen:** Its?

[20:07] **dorian:** His tongue, of course! What else.

[20:07] **cullen:** Maker's breath, _Dorian_.

[20:08] **dorian:** _Balls_. Perhaps you've already met those?

[20:10] **cullen:** I haven't even met him!

[20:11] **dorian:** Ah, but you will. Won't you? You like him. A great deal. Thinking of him sets your heart aflutter, I can tell. It's disgustingly romantic, but it's very... you.

[20:12] **cullen:** You are incredibly more cryptic than you usually are.

[20:14] **dorian:** Oh, you noticed. I've read some of the texts you exchanged with Cassandra. And I've seen _him_. No wonder you're so smitten. Theirin, isn't it? I knew him once. Not like _that_ , mind you. Our fathers were... acquaintances. Kind man, from what I remember. A great match for my wit and charms, but much too sweet for my taste. He's perfect for you.

[20:15] **cullen:** For Andraste's sake, Dorian. What was the purpose of this?

[20:16] **dorian:** What can I say. I enjoy making you blush.

[20:16] **dorian:** Before you get your smalls twisted in knots, I simply wanted to tell you that I'm... happy for you. We've been worried about you, Cullen, and from what I gathered, it seems you bring the best out of each other. I could have told you that firsthand, of course, but where would have been the fun in that? I have a reputation to keep.

[20:19] **cullen:**   Thank you, Dorian. For your wishes. And I appreciate your concern.

[20:20] **dorian:** Let's not get sappier than necessary, hm? Chess tomorrow, 20:00?

[20:21] **cullen:** I'll be there.

[20:23] **dorian:** Perfect. Remind me to give you the gift basket I bought you, before you leave.

[20:24] **cullen:** A gift?

[20:25] **dorian:** Oils, mostly. I wouldn't suggest you use them to cook, though.

[20:25] **cullen:** DORIAN.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm terribly sorry for the awfully delayed update! i've been feels-deep into s&bs and finally realized i was in dire need of a break... so i came back here and fell all over again for these two precious lovebirds. i've never been good at juggling projects but i'm hoping to work on both as steadily as possible. i hope you enjoy this new chapter! beware the cheese!

He doesn't know why Alistair likes him. He knows _how_ , to an extent. How is distinct. Recognizable. Like a face that's easy on the eye, a glimpse of skin or the sound of laughter. A smile that lingers, even once it's gone. How is straightforward and simple to pinpoint, where interests are concerned—likes and dislikes, wrong and right and all that. But he knows why _he_ likes Alistair, why he finds him impossibly beautiful, a caring soul and an open mind, touching him in places he hasn't felt in years. Places he's thought lost, until they roused again. He likes him because of that, his _touch_ , gentle around his heart and peaceful in the confines of his mind, where it ticks a little darker, and when he looks at him, it's what he sees, the epitome of everything he feels, the same things that soothe and make him laugh, even with his eyes closed. There's no mystery in finding someone attractive, or even seeing beyond that, a fascination swelling in one's chest, stirring all senses. There's no mystery in _how_.

But _why_?

He almost asked him, once. Why would a man as lively and playful as Alistair like a man as practical and collected as he? It's not all he is, of course—he knows that—but it wouldn't be far-fetched to believe that Alistair might like him for the same reason. They're so different yet so similar, meshing somewhere in the middle, a complementary hunch that's captivated him from the start. He doesn't doubt Alistair; he second-guesses _himself_ , afraid of disappointing, of being _less_ , because expectations are expected, and if liking Alistair has felt like the most natural thing in the world so far, he can't imagine being as easy to love as Alistair is.

Cassandra tells him that his concerns are misplaced, that he's worth more than he feels, and it's not like he doesn't have faith in himself. He knows what he's capable of. He knows his strengths, but he's just as well-aware of his weaknesses. What if he winds up being too much?

What if he winds up not being enough?

Surely Alistair would have realized either already, two months down the road. It's what Dorian claims, and Cullen winces every time—he _does_ worry, more than he should, but he's pushed people away for so long everything seems foreign now. There's no discipline in the unknown, no control—by letting him in, he also lets _himself_ in, and perhaps it's what scares him the most. Bare. Open. Not just to Alistair but to himself as well, and he's afraid of not being able to measure up to what they both wish to find there.

It's irrational. _Mostly_. There's a connection between them that he never felt with anyone, and he saw the same awe in Alistair's eyes, when he smiled through the screen. Perhaps he _does_ know why, as clear as _how_ , or clearer, but _what ifs_ have plagued most of Cullen's life, and it's no different now.

He _sweats_ , waiting for him under a cloudy sky, hands in his pockets and out and in again, just near the park's entrance. He pulls his phone out every thirty seconds, just in case he'd miss a message, but the truth is, he loves reading the last one he received, over and over, both calming and wrecking his nerves.

[9:23] **alistair** : i can't wait to be with you

And he can't, either.

He doesn't wait much longer. He spots his car, first—it's hard to miss, a blue Frostback adorned with the names of his dogs on each door, and his palms moisten. He can't stay still; he shifts his weight from side to side, the grey and damp weather threatening to crack his bones. The pain has been constant for years, worse since the Uprising, but it's easier to forget when his focus sharpens on Alistair, a swift intake of air slamming back into his lungs, _out_ , short and quick, and he nearly chokes on his patterned breath the moment Alistair comes out of his car.

He's seen him twice, not in the flesh but virtually, long hours he wishes had never ended, but _this_ is something else. It's difficult to tell how he'll react once he walks into his personal space—he's not used to sharing it, however much he longs to welcome him, and it's something he considered many times, aside from his fear of proving inadequate. Is _he_ ready? It seems futile to even ponder. He knows what he feels, but as encouraging as his closest entourage has been—Cassandra, in particular—life is nowhere near the kind of romance she loves reading, when no one's looking. Life is harsh, often merciless, and however deep his affection for him runs, he can't help but prepare for the worst, the last sliver of control he's still able to exert. Because when it comes to Alistair, his self-discipline never fails to dissolve, and he needs to _rein himself in_.

It's what he tells himself every time, in vain, and he shouldn't be surprised to feel himself melting again, a jolt of fascination as he stares unabashed. Alistair stands outside of his car, gesturing wildly as if to stretch numb muscles, but it's more than that. He _jumps_ , hops in small circles with his face turned upward—Cullen recognizes anxiety for what it is, however comical Alistair looks, trying to catch his breath and fixing his hair, mocking his own reflection in the car's window. Had it been anyone else, Cullen might have thought him completely moronic, but he doesn't, because he knows these antics _and_ the man behind them, and his mouth widens and he breathes on a chuckle, relieved to realize that he's not the only one in dire need of mending his composure.

He's already made a step in his direction when Alistair abruptly turns in his, and they both _halt_ , a dozen cars inbetween as they stare stilled, frozen in... well. Admiration, in Cullen's case, excitement and dread, and the slow smile brightening Alistair's eyes weakens his knees, his arms, his hands, and his phone drops to the ground.

"Maker's _balls_."

He fumbles to a crouch, feeling his skin already burning, his pulse hammering in his cheeks and against his ribs, and once Alistair's shoes stop under his nose, _it beats in his throat_ , and he stands with the grace of a snoufleur.

He might have been able to save face had he not caught a hint of Alistair's scent on his way up, fresh and spice and earth, and he closes his eyes, swaying towards him as if to breathe him in. _Like a creeper_. Had he not felt his chest brushing against his, a nudge back to reality, he isn't sure he'd have found the strength to jerk back, blinking his eyes open just in time to catch Alistair doing the same.

Was he... breathing him in, too? He almost _hopes_ he was, the kind of thought that should be reserved for young, love-struck fools, and his face burns a shade redder.

How much second-hand embarrassment can he possibly get from his own mind?

"I, uh..."

"Is your phone alright?"

"My... what?"

Alistair's voice sounds a little strained, just as his own does, he suspects, but he doesn't pay attention to himself, not anymore. Awkward as he may be, _he's stopped caring_ , because Alistair stands right in front of him with his eyes locked into his, the same amber flames he ogled from the other side of the screen, and it's _real_ , and he so desperately wants to touch him it _hurts_.

"Your phone," Alistair wiggles his nose, light amusement in his tone, and Cullen merely blinks. "It's not cracked, is it?"

"Oh! No, it's..." Is it? He stares down, quickly inspecting the device, which seems intact. "It's fine, oddly enough."

But _he_ isn't.

"You know I imagined this at least a million times," Alistair laughs, quiet, and Cullen looks up to catch a pinkish shade spreading across his cheeks, a hint of shyness in his eyes—the sight nearly causes him to _whine,_ and he tries to will his limbs to stop shaking. "It's easier behind a screen. I knew what to do with my hands then, and now, I... I dunno. I even had this _amazing_ speech prepared, it would have _blown you away_ I'm sure, you should've heard it... but I'm standing here instead just realizing that I'm about to start babbling again and wondering if I should shake yours. Your hand, I mean. Or if I should... y'know... hug—"

"No."

Colors drain from Alistair's face, and Cullen curses himself.

"No!" he shouts, shaking his head on a momentary wince and feeling his palms moistening again. "Maker's breath, I only meant..."

Could he possibly be any worse at this? He sighs, gazing down as if to gather his thoughts, but it does little to soothe his nerves. Alistair's eyes do, when he looks up again, expectant, uncertain, just as _he_ feels, and a rush of warmth shoots through him.

"If I hold you now," he says, meaning to sound matter-of-factly and only managing a soft, subdued murmur, "I'm afraid I won't have the strength to let you go."

And nothing's ever rung so true to his ears. Alistair visibly swallows—a response or his overall agitation, Cullen isn't sure—but his face reddens again, a healthy flush in the hollow of his cheeks. It takes every ounce of Cullen's willpower not to reach out and cup his jaw, to feel his skin under his fingers, his stubble, and his lips against his own, and perhaps he doesn't mind being a love-struck fool, after all.

"For a second there I thought maybe I smelled too much like Brie," Alistair half-grins, and Cullen nearly snorts, relaxing at last. "I probably do, actually, and if I touch you, you'll likely end up smelling like her, too. She begged me to come along, y'know, and she's pretty good at the whole puppy eye thing. Or the puppy all-over-your-face thing, in her case. She's _heavy_... but if you do catch a suspicious whiff, _well_. It's all her, and I hope it doesn't repulse you too much."

There's a ton of things he can think of that could potentially repulse him, and Alistair isn't one of them.

"No, I..." Cullen clears his throat, lowering his voice, his head. "I'd like you to... touch me."

 _Maker's breath_.

"J-Just—"

"Not now," Alistair finishes for him, saving him from further embarrassment, and he doesn't look offended at all, but _not now_ doesn't seem quite right and Alistair seems to realize as much, the lopsided smile he offers softening by the second.

Not _here_. And, preferably, somewhere no one can gawk.

It's nothing exactly blatant, but it cements what they are, and Cullen walks giddy into the park, not just a friend by his side but something more, the man he knows he found on the other side of the line. It's hard to define, what he feels, what he's _felt_ , ever since they met, but when he looks at him now, remembering everything, he wants to give Cassandra the benefit of the doubt.

The ease with which they find each other transpires again as Alistair cracks joke after joke, walking together among a crowd Cullen wishes wasn't so dense. Alistair never strays too far, which makes him wonder if his disquiet disposition is _that_ palpable, but nevertheless, he makes him _laugh_ , and it's easier to ignore the cacophony around them. He feels him, too, his arm, his hand, accidental touches that cause them both to smile, sheepish as they play games together or converse over shared plates of cheese sticks.

He notices everything now that a screen couldn't convey. The way he walks, slightly taller, inching closer whenever Cullen directly looks at him, as if to avoid catching him off-guard, as if to silently seek permission. The way he moves, strong and graceful, and Cullen can't help but note how his gestures reflect his own, and vice versa, like a symbiosis, revolving around each other. He feels comfortable here, with him, charmed by his voice, his scent and the freckles upon his cheeks, and he can't stop staring. _He's beautiful_. Cullen gapes whenever Alistair isn't looking, warmth tight in his chest when he laughs and marvels at things most people don't notice anymore. Simple things, like a lone flower in a patch of dirt, or the color of the sky once the sun brightens again. When he stops to calm a seemingly frightened stray dog, Cullen isn't surprised to find the animal licking his hand a moment later, because Alistair is like that, kind, magnetic, his heart on his sleeves and his head where it should be, and he doesn't know what he did to deserve a man such as he.

It puzzles him, but he's glad for it, especially when they run into Hawke. _Of all people_. He doesn't fail to comment on Cullen's [outfit](https://cdnb.lystit.com/photos/bfb1-2016/01/06/polo-ralph-lauren-dark-grey-full-zip-striped-pima-sweater-gray-product-0-520923056-normal.jpeg)—one he chose for him, not as casual as [Alistair's ](http://i21.twenga.com/fashion/sweatshirt/polo-ralph-lauren-cotton-tp_1579295872877494986f.jpg)but fitting—and for once, Cullen's grateful, because whenever Alistair looks at him, he can almost see what he sees, and he feels attractive. Still, Hawke's presence isn't exactly welcome, and another man might have flinched or shown disappointment, but not Alistair. He bonds with him instantly, despite the interruption, over _dogs_ , and Cullen takes advantage of it to observe him further. _Dimples_. He laughs frank, the same way he speaks, with all of himself, and it gives the impression that when he dedicates himself to a cause, a job, a _relationship_ , he gives everything he has, everything he _is_ , and it's enough for Cullen to _know_.

He's ready. For him. For them. To try, to give, to learn. To share. Because he makes him feel closer to home than he's ever been, and Alistair would be _so_ proud to hear him say such a cheesy thing. But he can't find it in himself to voice it. Not with Hawke around, leading them to the highest rollercoaster in the park, and Cullen squints in apprehension.

What a terrible idea it seems to be.

...what a terrible idea it _was_.

His skin turns green the second he gets off the ride, and if Alistair finds humor in Cullen's predicament, he's the first to rush to his side when he bends and empties his stomach in the nearest trashcan.

Hawke has conveniently disappeared, and Cullen abstractly wonders whether he knew this would happen, whether he led them there on purpose, another little scheme among too many.

But he's not that clever.

 _Or is he_.

"Cullen," Alistair softly disrupts his thoughts, and Cullen doesn't know why it feels so nice to be acknowledged during such an embarrassing moment, shoulders-deep in a blasted dustbin and heaving like a nug in heat. He feels his palm on his back and he catches his scent and he hears his voice, _it's alright_ , and mortification turns into warmth.

It's Alistair's gift, he supposes, to brighten the impossible, and a ghost of a smile touches his lips as Alistair offers his bottle of water and a few napkins, inviting him to sit on a bench.

"How do you feel?" he asks, sitting next to him, and Cullen is all too aware of his thigh against his, his shoulder, and his heart beats too fast for what his stomach can endure, after what it's just gone through.

"I'll be fine in a moment," he nods slowly, drinking and wiping his mouth, wincing when he realizes why he even _has_ to do this—he throws the bottle away, frowning down his lap in a renewed bout of shame. "I'm sorry. This isn't... I hope it didn't spoil your enjoyment, I never... I didn't... uh..."

His voice trails off, distracted, _weaker_ , frown dissipating as he stares, because Alistair's hand grazed his and it's so gentle, his caress, fingers cautious as they wrap around his.

And he lets him.

He glances up, a slow flutter of lashes as tingles run down his spine, Alistair's touch seemingly mollifying his nerves. There's a smile slanting his mouth, bashful, and his thumb lazily sweeps across his and Cullen's breath _hitches_ , the corners of his lips lifting in response. This man, so candid and handsome, so kind, bright and cheerful, could easily leave a trail of adoring lovers behind him, _after_ him, and yet he sits here with him, with a hand that could have touched another, curled instead around his own. It's _crazy_ , and it's how he feels, too, holding hands on a bench in the middle of a crowd he's finally forgotten, the same acknowledgement in Alistair's gaze.

"I'm right where I should be," he says, low, fond, and Cullen understands in that moment that _some_ things are perhaps infinitely _better_ than the kind of books Cassandra reads.

The air stifles quiet afterwards, unable to find their voices—they find each other through different means, walking side by side, ogling shy and touching again, standing in lines with their fingers loosely intertwined. The sun sets too soon and Cullen dreads the night to come, but not for the same reasons that usually haunt his dreams.

The day's gone by too fast, and he doesn't want it to end.

They stop by a souvenir boutique, before the park finally closes, and Cullen waits outside as Alistair continues browsing the shelves, overcome with a mild sense of panic. The dynamic's changed. It's not just him through a screen now, it's him in the flesh, with a voice and gestures and a laugh that drives him mad, dimples he wants to kiss, a heart he needs to feel against his own, and once they part, he wonders if it'll ever be the same. The same unspoken rules, the same caution. Can he call him, if he misses his voice? _Should he_? Is there a protocol to follow or time to allow, before he can voice the way he makes him feel, before he _takes_ , just as much as he wishes to give?

"I've never seen so many things in a souvenir store before," Alistair snaps him out of his thoughts as he walks out of the boutique, and Cullen turns towards him with his palm around his neck. "Look at this! A glowing golem. It looks so _mad_. Is it just me or does it look like it's _glaring_ at me. I mean, _specifically_."

"You're holding it upside down."

"Oh. So that's where its head goes, huh. No... look, it still looks mad. After I gave it back its freedom too. Maybe it just doesn't like me. Or maybe it's just _ungrateful_. Did _you_ find anything? Anything that's caught your interest, I mean."

"I... did, yes."

"It's not a golem, is it. There's only so much glaring I can take."

"No, it's..." His jaw tightens, and his mouth curls upward, slightly, _shyly_ , before his gaze swivels down. "...it wasn't in the shop."

He's shaking. _Again_. The breeze's grown colder and he feels a trifle ridiculous, with this overload of emotions he doesn't know how to handle, emotions so simple, so natural, the urge to complicate them is both absurd and comforting. Alistair comes to him with the same candor, causing his pulse to jump when his knuckles brush against the side of his face, and Cullen looks up, only to see Alistair searching his gaze with unbridled warmth in his eyes.

"Then we're both going home with the same souvenir," he says softly, backing away with a joyful, demure smile that mirrors Cullen's tender stare.

How is it even possible to _want_ another human being so much?

"There's a ton of things I'd like to say or... or _do_ , even, right now," Alistair chuckles, nervous, raking the same fingers that touched his face through his hair, and Cullen nods because oh, _he knows_. "Like trying not to shove my foot in my mouth, but it's... probably already too late for that. I... I'd really like to see you again. I'd like to... _be_ , with you. Somewhere else. Where I could... where I could have you all to _myself,_ and..."

"Take your time?"

His voice doesn't sound like his own, but Alistair smiles anew, and he doesn't care what he sounds like.

"Yes. Just... you and me. I enjoyed myself with you, Cullen. I knew I would, but this is... _ugh_ , Maker's breath. Where's Brie when you need her? _Just_. Would you like to... see me. _Again_."

"Yes."

"...Soon?"

He doesn't even want to _leave_ him.

"As soon as possible," he manages to  croak, fingers restless at his sides.

"My place? Next weekend?"

"I'll clear my schedule."

The _relief_ in Alistair's eyes, hope and glee, altogether _beaming_ , makes him realize just how  apprehensive he must have been, surely dealing with similar fears, and Cullen's chest tightens, warm and full and wild, a step closer towards him.

"You know we've just spent an entire day together and I still can't believe you're real," Alistair wriggles his nose, a bashful gesture Cullen's growing rather fond of. "Which doesn't make any sense because you _clearly_ _are_ , but uh... I... should go. Before I make you change your mind somehow, and I'd rather not risk that. So I'll... go. _Now_."

"Alistair..."

"Yes?"

 _Don't leave. Stay with me._ But words fail him and he scowls, rooted in the contemplation of his feet. The prospect of fleeing now is beyond appealing, and when he dares one step back, Alistair doesn't let him go farther. He catches his hand, _because he somehow understands_ , and he pulls him in and he twines his arms around his waist, _and he hugs him_.

Snug. Close. He hugs him not just with his arms, but with his whole body, with his face in his neck and his chest pressed to his, and Cullen feels his heart everywhere they touch. There's a hint of urgency in his embrace, despite how tenderly he holds him, an intimate clutch that soon quells Cullen's stupor, and he hugs him back without restraint.

This has to be what it feels like, to know where you belong, and he lingers in his arms and he breathes him in, freely now, eyes fluttering closed at the brush of Alistair's nose near his ear. He squeezes him harder, a shiver that shakes them both, the first taste of what's to come, real against him. Real where his pulse has jumped, the same beat in Alistair's chest, and when Cullen's hold slightly loosens, not wanting to force him there, Alistair _tightens_ his own, molded against each other in what feels like a perfect fit.

He could stay here forever. With him, nothing else, cradled in capable arms and _safe_ , marvelling at the comfort of his embrace. He hasn't let anyone close in years, allowed sporadic and friendly touches on occasions, and he can't say it's something he's really missed, even now, because he's never known anything like _this_. Thick and warm, Alistair hugs him like _he means it_ , faces buried in each other's necks, and the quiet affection surrounding them is, perhaps, the most beautiful silence he's ever heard.

His stubble grazes his own once Alistair slowly pulls away, and the tip of his nose rubs against his, briefly, before he sighs heavy. His fingers are still poised on Cullen's hips, his eyes drowsy, and he smiles faintly, with the hint of an apology he can't seem to voice.

"Good night, Cullen," he says instead, strained, and Cullen swallows thick.

"Good night, Alistair. Drive safely."

Alistair nods, a quiet laugh in his sigh, and he _goes_ , leaving Cullen standing dazed behind him, watching him as his chest swells hotter. He stays near the entrance until he loses track of his car, his scent caught in the breeze around him, all over his clothes now, and he smiles foolish, a tad wistful, because he knows now, for the first time in his life, that the absence of a touch _can_ be felt. Tangibly.

Painfully.

And his universe has been shaken irrevocably.

\---

[1:22] **cullen** : Text me when you're home?

[1:31] **alistair** : cullen! i was just about to send you a message, actually. i'm safe and home. miss me already?

[1:32] **cullen** : I... do. Today was better than everything I could have possibly imagined, Alistair. Thank you.

[1:34] **alistair** : oh, i... i should probably thank _you_ , if anything. i... feel the same. and other feely things i haven't felt in a long time... or ever, really.

[1:38] **alistair** : i'm sorry, that was too much, wasn't it? how many feet do i need to shove in there to stop talking?

[1:39] **cullen** : No, please. _I'm_ sorry. There is so much I wish to say, and I don't know where to start. Perhaps I shouldn't have let you go.

[1:40] **alistair** : it's a good thing you did though. i'd still be talking your ears off now if you hadn't can you imagine

[1:41] **cullen** : If there's one thing I'm looking forward to, it's that. Time with you went by much too fast.

[1:42] **alistair** : ...alright, you know what. i lied. i wouldn't be talking your ears off at all. there's a lot of other things i'd like to be doing, and the truth is... well. it's no big secret now that i came to care for you. a great deal. meeting you was the one bright spot out of... well, my entire life, really, and being with you is... argh.

[1:42] **alistair** : i'm... scared, to be honest. to scare you away. to mess things up somehow, with the things i feel. it's overwhelming, even for me. i'm afraid to read you wrong.

[1:43] **cullen** : You don't. You didn't. It's... difficult to find the right words to express how I feel. None of them seem right.

[1:44] **alistair** : i'm not making you feel pressured, am i? because i don't want to rush you... or us, if... if there's an us

[1:45] **cullen** : There is an us. I want this, Alistair. _You_. It's the only damned certainty I've ever had.

[1:47] **alistair** : oh, i... oh.

[1:47] **alistair** : you know, now i _really_ wish i hadn't left, if it's possible to wish it any harder than i already did

[1:48] **cullen** : I should have asked. I nearly did. I... wasn't sure how.

[1:50] **alistair** : maybe we should just... stop questioning everything ever and do whatever we feel like doing. i mean, it's worked pretty well so far, right? you even hugged me back, and maker was i terrified. until i... felt your arms around me. i almost didn't, you know. but when you stood there, clearly as tongue-tied as i was, i just... i needed to do something.

[1:51] **cullen** : I'm... glad, that you did. You seemed to read my mind. As you often do.

[1:51] **alistair** : my clothes still smell of you. you smell good, by the way. can i say that? have we reached that point where i can comment on such things without sounding creepy

[1:51] **cullen** : You never sounded creepy. You... You always sounded like _you_ , and I like that you're... you.

[1:52] **alistair** : i don't think i've ever been so grateful to be _me_

[1:53] **alistair** : i'm... all in, cullen. if you'll have all of me

[1:53] **cullen** : As am I, Alistair. And I'd like nothing more than to have... all of you.

[1:55] **alistair** : [sends him a picture of a timid, delighted smile]

[1:55] **alistair** : now... if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, i'd appreciate it

[1:56] **cullen** : And miss all your cheesy lines? I'm rather fond of this stage.

[1:57] **alistair** : you are? huh. i'm luckier than i thought, that's for sure. but i'm rather fond of this stage, too

[1:58] **cullen** : And as much as I enjoy it, that's not to say I'd be adverse to... steamier stages.

[2:00] **alistair** : ...i'm definitely going to keep that in mind, though i'm afraid even the steamier stages come with unhealthy doses of cheese, if you think you've got the stomach for it

[2:00] **cullen** : I'm looking forward to learning your glutton ways.

[2:01] **alistair** : that's me, alistair the pig! i can go through a trough in 5 seconds flat just you watch

[2:02] **alistair** : ...we're not really talking about cheese are we

[2:03] **cullen** : Perhaps we should... sleep.

[2:04] **alistair** : before i embarrass myself. yes. an excellent idea

[2:05] **cullen** : No... before I embarrass _myself_.

[2:05] **alistair** : oh, i... oh. alright. maybe a shower then. cold.

[2:06] **cullen** : An excellent idea.

[2:06] **cullen** : Thank you, Alistair. For everything.

[2:07] **alistair** : the pleasure's entirely mine, trust me... do you think you might have some free time tomorrow?

[2:08] **cullen** : For you? Always.

[2:09] **alistair** : skype? 6pm?

[2:09] **cullen** : I'll be here.

[2:10] **alistair** : i can't wait to see you again. sweet dreams, cullen

[2:10] **cullen** : I've no doubt that they will be. Good night, Alistair.

[2:18] **cullen** : ♥

[2:19] **alistair** : ♥ ♥

[2:19] **cullen** : Cullen Cullout.

[2:19] **alistair** : YOU DIDN'T ACTUALLY JUST DO WHAT I'M FAIRLY SURE YOU JUST DID

[2:19] **cullen** : ♥

[2:20] **alistair** : maker's breath i'm rubbing off on you... i'm not sure whether i should apologize

[2:20] **cullen** : Don't. I like who I am when I'm with you.

[2:20] **alistair** : that's... probably the one thing i've been trying to put into words since i met you. you... make me feel the same

[2:21] **cullen** : 3pm, tomorrow?

[2:21] **alistair** : done deal. good night :)

[2:22] **cullen** : :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A text interlude (which includes a shirtless someone, drawn by froschkuss@tumblr.com!)

[19:32] **cousland:** i don't get why you hate her so much.

[19:32] **alistair:** i don't _hate_ her. i like her... less... a _lot_ less... than most things i love

[19:33] **cousland:** that's probably the nicest thing you've ever said about her.

[19:34] **alistair:** seeeee? i _can_ be nice... even to her. and you doubted me!

[19:34] **cousland:** i just don't understand. what's she's ever done to you?

[19:34] **alistair:** well, aside from the fact that she's a complete and utter _bitch_... nothing, i guess. except that one time when she returned a gift brie kindly left in her bag. she hurt her feelings, you know. and mine

[19:35] **cousland:** it was a putrid hare.

[19:35] **alistair:** one that'd been ravaging her gardens, too! what can i say. brie's a helper

[19:36] **cousland:** i just wish you could get along. you're my best friend, ali. you're going to have to tolerate each other.

[19:37] **alistair:** let me remind you that i was behaving... until i saw you making kissy faces at each other. the stuff of nightmares, i dunno how you do it, but well... it's your funeral

[19:38] **cousland:** can't you just be happy for me?

[19:42] **alistair:** ugh. i'm happy that you're happy, i just. do you really trust her?

[19:44] **cousland:** i do. and i don't need you to like her, alistair. i just don't want you to constantly fight each other.

[19:45] **alistair:**...argh, i'm sorry, cous. you're right. you've been nothing but supportive and i'm being an insensitive idiot. i trust _you_ , you know that. as long as _you're_ happy... it's really all that matters, and i should know better

[19:45] **cousland:** indeed, you should.

[19:46] **alistair:** i've just never seen you so smitten before. i think i might have been... jealous, in a way

[19:46] **cousland:** jealous? of her?

[19:47] **alistair:** well... yes! i know it sounds stupid. we used to spend so much time together, and i've barely seen or talked to you at all in the past four months. you're always _there_ , even though i live right next to her and i... well, it bothered me. and i've missed you

[19:49] **cousland:** ali... i know i've neglected our friendship. i'm sorry. i know it's not a good excuse, or even an excuse at all, but she's... i've never felt this way about a woman before. i think i love her.

[19:51] **alistair:** andraste's flaming swORD COUS

[19:51] **alistair:** you know you could just stab me in the face first before you say something like THAT

[19:52] **cousland:** i've been wanting to tell you for a while. i know you don't like her much, but she's important to me. you both are.

[19:53] **cousland:** i'll make it up to you, i promise. i've missed you too, and we should definitely remedy that.

[19:55] **alistair:** ugh. _alright_. you have my benediction... or whatever it is i should be giving you. you have it. this better work out because i'd really hate to say i told you so

[19:56] **cousland:** you won't have to. she's the one, ali. there's no other woman for me.

[19:57] **alistair:** oh, _maker_. please don't tell me i'm going to have to suffer through all that lovey-dovey talk now on top of _everything else_

[19:58] **cousland:** you're one to talk with your bottomless pit of cheese.

[19:58] **alistair:** you know i take offense at that. it's not _bottomless_ , i can be... whatever the opposite of cheesy is

[19:58] **cousland:** not so far. not with _him_.

[19:58] **alistair:** come on now, i'm not _that_ bad... am i?

[19:59] **cousland:** weren't you squealing about him using emotes just a few hours ago?

[20:00] **alistair:** i... was but _that's_ different. cullen's not the type of guy to use emotes and then he just... kind of started inserting them in his messages and... i dunno. i feel like he's really comfortable with me. like i've... managed to touch his heart somehow, like he touched mine.

[20:01] **cousland:** i rest my case.

[20:02] **alistair:**...i hate you

 

***

 

[11:21] **hawke:** My cousin's here. She wants to know if Alistair'll come over any time soon, she hasn't seen him in years!

[11:21] **cullen:** Solona?

[11:21] **hawke:** The one and only. So. When are you gonna see him again?

[11:21] **cullen:** Next weekend. He's not coming here.

[11:22] **hawke:** Really? A whole week without him?

[11:23] **cullen:** Unfortunately.

[11:24] **hawke:** How are you going to occupy yourself

[11:26] **cullen:** Same way I've always occupied myself before I knew him.

[11:27] **hawke:** Does he know you walk around in your apartment with moth-eaten briefs

[11:27] **cullen:** I... what?

[11:28] **hawke:** _and nothing else_

[11:29] **cullen:** Hawke.

[11:30] **hawke:** I'm just saying! Maybe you wouldn't have to wait so long if he knew

[11:31] **cullen:** That... isn't the nature of our relationship.

[11:32] **hawke:** _Yet_. It's gonna happen, sooner or later. Sooner than later if he knows what you look like when you're being a boring hermit

[11:33] **cullen:** I'm _working_ , Hawke.

[11:33] **hawke:** That desk of yours looks pretty sturdy though

[11:34] **hawke:** you should invite him over to work with you

[11:35] **cullen:** Have a good day, Hawke.

 

***

 

[14:13] **cullen:**

****

[14:15] **alistair:**...cull...en....?

[14:15] **cullen:** yes, it is I, in all my shirtless glory. have you seen those abs? you could grate cheese on that stuff

[14:15] **alistair:**...uhhhhhhhhhh... not that the mental image isn't ridiculously tempting...  _but_.

[14:15] **alistair:** alright. who's this?

[14:15] **cullen:** Your most wicked fantasy

[14:15] **cullen:** I'm pretty hot though you gotta admit

[14:16] **cullen:** Did you know there was a heart next to your name in my contact list

[14:16] **cullen:** [another picture is sent, the glimpse of a torso, and a scowl, blurry]

[14:16] **cullen:** you know you wsags

[14:16] **cullen:** asafdj!/?ET

[14:17] **cullen:** ALISTAIR

[14:18] **cullen:** Maker's breath, please forgive me. Hawke doesn't seem to know the first thing about boundaries. He's intruded my privacy yet again, and I... I did NOT send those pictures. It was inappropriate, and I'm sorry you had to witness... all of it. I should have been more vigilant.

[14:18] **alistair:** is there really a heart next to my name?

[14:20] **cullen:** Um. There... is, yes.

[14:20] **cullen:** There... are.

[14:21] **alistair:** more than one?

[14:22] **cullen:**...Two.

[14:23] **alistair:** still trying to outdo me huh, even now :P

[14:23] **alistair:** there's nothing to apologize for, cullen. you should probably thank him if anything... or i should anyhow

[14:24] **cullen:** Thank him? For having breached my privacy and treated you in an outrageously crude manner?

[14:25] **alistair:** well... no. that... _that_ wasn't right, and i'm not trying to make it sound like it was. because it wasn't. but the thing is... i knew it wasn't you and... you're probably mad at him now, but i just want you to know that it didn't bother me

[14:26] **alistair:** it should have been sent of your own volition, but i... i uh, really enjoyed the... view

[14:27] **alistair:** i'm sorry. i know you didn't intend for me to see this and i'm... probably making you feel uncomfortable now

[14:27] **alistair:** you know we can... we can pretend i haven't seen anything, or i mean... alright, no pretending, but i can zip it forever and never speak of this again

[14:28] **cullen:** No, I... don't mind that you've seen them. Not anymore. I'm... glad that you've uh... enjoyed the view.

[14:29] **alistair:** did i say enjoy? because it sounds like an understatement

[14:29] **alistair:** every time i look at you, i can't help but think... maker's breath but he's beautiful, and those pictures were definitely... beautiful

[14:30] **cullen:** You make me feel that way.

[14:31] **alistair:** i do? you know it's kind of funny, because it's how you make me feel, too. that's awfully syrupy, i know. even for me. though you did say it first! that's probably because i'm a bad influence, but that being said. maybe we should... you know. experiment. more.

[14:32] **cullen:** Should I send you more pictures, in that case?

[14:33] **alistair:** weeeeeeell... yes, i mean, only if you'd like to, of course! i'll gladly return the favor

[14:35] **cullen:** Then I would most definitely like to, yes.

[14:35] **alistair:** skype date? in 30 minutes? i won't wear any shirt if you won't!

[14:36] **cullen:** I'll be there ;) :)

 

***

 

[9:43] **alistair:**

****

[9:43] **cullen:** Of you, yes. I'm eagerly looking forward to finally meeting her.

[9:44] **alistair:**...i'm definitely jealous of her now. she already likes you more than she likes me, you know

[9:44] **alistair:** how do you do that? effortlessly. and unconsciously too, probably

[9:44] **cullen:** Unconsciously?

[9:45] **alistair:** you know... winning people over. and dogs

[9:46] **cullen:** If i do, it's not anything I've ever been aware of.

[9:47] **alistair:** see? that's what i mean. you don't know the kind of effect you have on your entourage, or the kind of attention you... inspire

[9:48] **cullen:** Yours is the only attention worth having.

[9:49] **alistair:** i'm... well. i'm glad you think so... because it's all yours

[9:49] **alistair:** and brie's! maker's breath... she nearly chewed my nose off

[9:50] **cullen:** Tell her to behave, as I'm rather fond of your nose.

[9:51] **alistair:** that huge, disgraceful... thing in the middle of my face?

[9:51] **cullen:** I'm rather fond of your face as well, and there's nothing disgraceful about you.

[9:52] **alistair:** weeeeeell. i can think of one thing

[9:53] **cullen:** What? Alistair... The world would be a much better place if more people were like you. I'm privileged to know you, and to be deemed worthy of your... affections. You shouldn't sell yourself short. You bring out the best in me, simply by being who you are.

[9:55] **alistair:** cullen... you're making it so easy for me... to be _me_ , whenever i'm with you. and that's what i wanted to say... the disgraceful thing about me. it's... well, it's you not being with me

[9:56] **cullen:** Oh. I... I thought... um. I... wish I were.

[9:57] **cullen:** But I must get back to work.

[9:57] **cullen:** You're always on my mind, Alistair. Even when you shouldn't be.

[9:57] **alistair:** don't let me misbehave in there!

[9:57] **alistair:** i'll be here when you're free ♥

 

 

***

 

[17:06] **mia:** What do you mean, you can't?

[17:06] **cullen:** I won't be home, Mia.

[17:06] **mia:** Cullen Rutherford! We haven't seen you in 6 months! Where in the Void will you be?? You never leave your apartment!

[17:07] **cullen:** I'll be in Denerim for the weekend.

[17:08] **mia:** What? Oh, let me guess. Another colloquium? You already know everything there is to know about your domain of expertise, Cullen. Would it really kill you to ditch your bloody paperwork for one day? AND COME HERE TO SEE YOUR FAMILY???

[17:10] **cullen:** Mia, I told you. I miss you all, but I've already made arrangements.

[17:11] **mia:** Alright, if you can't come to us, I'll come to you!

[17:12] **cullen:** What? You can't come with me.

[17:14] **mia:** And why not? Can't you bring along guests to your seminars?

[17:15] **cullen:** Well... yes, but I'm not going to a seminar.

[17:16] **mia:** What then?

[17:25] **mia:** I'm waiting, Cullen.

[17:27] **cullen:** I'm... meeting someone.

[17:28] **mia:**...Of course you are. Try again.

[17:28] **cullen:** You asked. I'm telling you the truth.

[17:28] **mia:** Alright, and who would that be? Unless you're meeting with the prince, I don't see who could possibly be more important than your own sister!

[17:30] **cullen:** The... prince?

[17:32] **mia:** Are you actually saying he's more important than me?

[17:33] **mia:** WAIT. ARE YOU MEETING WITH THE PRINCE???

[17:35] **cullen:** Of course not, and kind of.

[17:35] **mia:** WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN????

[17:37] **cullen:** This isn't how I wanted to tell you. I've met someone, Mia.

[17:37] **mia:**???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

[17:38] **cullen:** I'm very fond of him.

[17:38] **mia:** WHEN??????? WHERE?????????? WHO IS HE??????????????

[17:39] **cullen:** It's a... long story.

[17:40] **mia:** CULLEN STANTON RUTHERFORD

[17:41] **cullen:** Alright, alright! I met him on a dating website.

[17:42] **mia:** You're jesting.

[17:43] **cullen:** I'm afraid not. Hawke created my profile, and he... sent me a message. It was a little over two months ago.

[17:44] **mia:** Wait, Hawke sent you a message? Are you dating Hawke?

[17:44] **cullen:** Maker, no! I'm... His name is Alistair.

[17:45] **mia:** Alistair?

[17:46] **mia:** As in... _The_ Alistair?

[17:46] **mia:** As in... THEIRIN? CAILAN'S HANDSOME HALF BROTHER???

[17:46] **mia:** IS THAT WHY YOU SAID YOU WERE KIND OF MEETING WITH THE PRINCE??????

[17:48] **cullen:** Yes, and I'm only telling you because I... really care for him. I'd like you to meet him, eventually.

[17:50] **mia:** WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BABY BROTHER

[17:50] **mia:** I'm trying to process this.

[17:51] **mia:** Are you really telling me that YOU are dating a Theirin?

[17:52] **cullen:** I'm telling you that I'm falling for the kindest man I've ever known.

[17:53] **mia:** Shite, Cullen. You're serious.

[17:54] **mia:** You're actually besotted! I thought I'd never see the day!

[17:54] **mia:** You must bring him home as soon as possible so that I can properly thank him.

[17:55] **cullen:** Thank him for what?

[17:56] **mia:** For taking such good care of my baby brother he's finally giving himself a chance. I'm so happy, Cullen.

[17:58] **cullen:** As am I. Thank you, Mia.

[17:58] **cullen:** May I return to my bloody paperwork now?

[17:59] **mia:** Yes, of course... your Grace!

[18:00] **cullen:** You do realize he's not likely to ever be King.

[18:00] **mia:** Yes, and you weren't likely to ever come out of your apartment just a few years ago,  Cullen.

[18:01] **mia:** You're not still wearing those awful moth-eaten briefs, are you?

[18:02] **cullen:** Baby steps, Mia. Baby steps.

[18:03] **mia:** You're terrible. Call me when you're back, will you? And be safe!

[18:04] **cullen:** Always ♥

[18:05] **mia:**...I like him already.

 

 

***

 

[15:19] **alistair:** i just... i failed, cullen

[15:19] **alistair:** i failed to revive him, i failed to save him, even with aggressive surgical and supportive care. he just... i can't help but feel like i could have done more somehow

[15:19] **alistair:** i bruised my thumb in one last attempt at chest compressions... and i guess that's when i realized that nothing i'd done had worked at all

[15:20] **alistair:** they thanked me... it was an old couple. the woman was in tears, _i_ was in tears, and she tried to comfort _me_ even though she'd just lost her dog and

[15:20] **alistair:** she was _grateful_ and i'm. so _mad_. it's the one aspect of my life i felt i really could control, the one thing i knew i could do _well_ , and... i _love_ animals, and the smiles you get from your clients, the _relief_ , when you nurse their companions back to health... it's worth everything

[15:21] **alistair:** but this... i was told i had a successful career and i just... i wouldn't have lost him today, if i did

[15:23] **alistair:** uuugh i'm sorry. i didn't mean to babble so much. you'd think i'd be used to this by now, but every time it just... breaks my heart

[15:42] **cullen:** Please forgive me, I've only just received your messages now. I was in a meeting. Are you alright?

[15:42] **cullen:**...Of course you're not, I'm sorry. That... was a stupid question.

[15:46] **cullen:** You're a good man, Alistair. I can't pretend to know what you're going through, though I've no doubt that you _are_ making a difference. I've come to know you well, and your kindness never ceases to amaze me. You always pour everything you have in everything you do, and that woman undeniably felt your sense of commitment, as well as your compassion.

[15:47] **cullen:** Perhaps his death was inevitable. She found relief in the fact that you released her dog from his pain, and oftentimes it is the only kind of peace we can rely on. You did what you could.

[15:49] **alistair:** cullen...

[15:49] **cullen:** Forgive me. That was meant to sound comforting and... I can see now how it wouldn't... at all.

[15:50] **alistair:** no, no. i just... thank you. really. i know i can't stop the inevitable, i can only try and do my best and... and _that_ matters. it mattered to that couple for sure, and he's definitely in a better place now

[15:50] **alistair:** i shouldn't let it get to me, i knew what the job implied

[15:51] **cullen:** On the contrary. You don't repress your emotions. You live and power through them, and you wear your heart on your sleeves. I haven't come across many people who do and I... like that about you. It's a strength of character that very few pride themselves in having.

[15:52] **alistair:** you should tell that to the queen... i lost count of how many times she scolded me for being what she considered a _wimp_. wynne though... she always believed in me. she's the only motherly figure i've ever truly had, you know, and... you remind me of her, sometimes

[15:53] **cullen:** I do walk a little hunched over at times, when the weather threatens to crack my bones. Perhaps I should use a cane, and wear a dress.

[15:54] **alistair:** did you just

[15:54] **alistair:** wow, cullen. your sense of humor is terrible, and i'm a little proud

[15:55] **alistair:** leave the dress to me though, i wear it best... _trust_ me

[15:55] **alistair:** but no, i reaaaaaaally don't think of you as a motherly figuuure... you do make me feel warm and fuzzy though, if that counts

[15:55] **cullen:** It certainly does. Would you like to walk with me? Clear your head, perhaps, and talk as much as you need.

[15:56] **alistair:** you mean... how do you mean?

[15:56] **cullen:** I thought we could use Skype. There's a park nearby, it's a... very nice day.

[15:57] **alistair:** aren't you working? you're never home before 6, at least... are you alright?

[15:58] **cullen:** I am, but you're not. I'm not the best at giving advice, but I want to be available... for you.

[15:58] **alistair:** i... already feel much better, actually. maker's breath, where have you been all my life?

[15:58] **alistair:** i'd love to walk with you. i'd rather _be_ with you but... y'know. maybe i should invest in a jet. give me a few minutes? and... thank you.

[15:59] **cullen:** I'll be here when you are.

 

***

 

[22:21] **alistair:** SERIOUSLY? I CAN HEAR YOU!

[22:25] **alistair:** COUS!!

[22:25] **alistair:** i swear if i hear another sound

[22:27] **alistair:** WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER

[22:27] **alistair:** actually you know what. don't answer that

[22:28] **alistair:** oh, for andraste's sAKE

[22:28] **alistair:** could you be any louder

[22:29] **alistair:** i'm going to need to scrub myself clean after this

[22:30] **alistair:** and shove a knife in my ears maybe

[22:34] **alistair:** what in the void is going on

[22:35] **alistair:** it almost sounds like you're...

[22:36] **alistair:** please tell me you're not in the BACKYARD

[22:37] **alistair:** there's only a bush separating mine from hers you know

[22:39] **alistair:** well stab me with a fork and call me sUSAN

[22:39] **alistair:** you're in the backyard

[22:40] **alistair:** excuse me while i begin projectile vomiting


End file.
